


And Then Restart

by absofruitlynot



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: F/M, Series 5, two sad people trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 11:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14043321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absofruitlynot/pseuds/absofruitlynot
Summary: “You need taking care of,” she tells him, and it is absolutely true. She just needs him to know it can’t be her, not just now.(Joan, sorting things out.)





	And Then Restart

**Author's Note:**

> I love pining.

She needs to work out who she is, on her own, outside of her dad, outside of Ray, of any man. Outside of Morse, too, although that feels less pressing than the lurch she still feels when she runs into her dad or sees a pair of too-familiar glasses, or sees women younger than her pass a hand absently, lovingly over their stomachs. So she finds her flat, tries to do things that feel meaningful, spends time with Mum. Tries to do it right— healing— this time. And so she fixes him up with Claudine.

“You need taking care of,” she tells him, and it is absolutely true. She just needs him to know that it can’t be her, not just now.

Is it a bit self-destructive? Self-flagellating? Perhaps. The look that he tries to stop from crossing over his face rubs something raw in her own chest, almost cracks her resolve. 

To be honest, she does not fully expect him to take her up on it, and she is a little surprised (miffed?) when she learns he has. He’d told her he wasn’t on the market and even though she knows this is not true, she knew what he meant, and he knew that she knew, and they’d allowed themselves this willful ignorance. (Just as they had willfully pretended not to have seen each other at their barest, most vulnerable, most shatteringly exposed.) 

To be even more honest, even this was a selfish move. She knew Claudine, knew he’d be taken with her, and knew it could never last. It was a place to put him while she gritted her teeth, while she forced herself to really look in the mirror, while she remembered what kind eyes really looked like. While they both ache for something they can’t quite put words to.

And she’s eventually right, and he kisses her as close to her mouth as either of them can bear, and whatever gentle trespasses remain are gently forgiven. 

There has been a lot of that lately—forgiveness—and she thinks she may finally deserve it.

So when he turns up on her doorstep, teetering on the edge of something terrifying and unknown, they are both ready. So she smiles at him, and something new entirely begins.


End file.
